GTTB ft. Fortune Lyrics

(Young Marvin in his hay)

Gettin' to the bag

Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye

Swagger so silky but

Nigga don't milk me

Don't let me go off and brag

Yeah, yeah

Hot like a furnace

Complete any purchase

Not looking at the tag no way, aye, aye

These bands in my pockets

You a drag I'm a jockey

Pants always fucking saggin'

Getting to the bag aye

Getting to the bag aye

Getting to the bag aye

Getting to the bag aye

Grind don't stop

Rock big rocks (aye)

Bill big fucks (yuh)

Yeah my wrist hot (yeah)

BS the hotspot

Got my bitch rolling pot

Money on the clock

Twelve to Twelve bitch

Don't let shit rot uh

You only sorry when

You get caught, yeah

I avoid the snakes

Got the crib on lock shoot my shot

No bot, make it drop

Shake that ass smoke this grass

Make sure the speakers blast

Life is always moving fast

Looking forward not the past

She's saying that I'm harsh

So I had to fucking pass

If you ain't first you last

Got her screams breaking glass

Blackspadez taking tasks

Short or little, not down the middle

Gettin' to the bag

Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye

Swagger so silky but

Nigga don't milk me

Don't let me go off and brag

Yeah, yeah

Hot like a furnace

Complete any purchase

Not looking at the tag no way, aye, aye

These bands in my pockets

You a drag I'm a jockey

Pants always fucking saggin'

Getting to the bag aye

Getting to the bag aye

Getting to the bag aye

Getting to the bag aye

I'm sittin' and drinkin'

I ain't really thinking

What's on my mind yeah

These bitches is fiendin'

They hitting my line

Ain't got no time

Yeah yeah

Everyday, moving packs and weight

Got no tax to pay

Slacking is a virtue that I lack

And only time for stacking

I'm on brackin', got a backwoods

We scale it up and bag it

Get to the bag, get to the bag

Get to the bag, yeah

Told the bitch get the rag

Get the rag yeah, yeah

Don't call us if it ain't about the money

Separate phone for that

Separate phone for hunnys

I don't play the dummy

If she want a tummy tuck

Bitch, I'ma funny fuck

And you niggas runnin' out of shit

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

24/7 like 7-Eleven

Play with my cash you get to the heaven

Or hell, what's your preference on this mic

I got stripes like a referee

Never get the best of me

Otherwise you rest in peace bitch

Get the bag yeah, yeah